Snape s Christmas Carol
by ssnapelover
Summary: What would have happened to Severus Snape, if he had survived Voldemort’s attack? This story is based on characters by J K Rowling and Charles Dickens, to get into a Christmas mood! With thanks to Karin for her translation


What would have happened to Severus Snape, if he had survived Voldemort's attack?

This story is based on characters by J K Rowling and Charles Dickens, to get into a Christmas mood!

**Snape's Christmas Carol**

As usual, Severus Snape walked through an extra few streets as soon as he had finished his workday at Olivander's. The weather was bleak and snow had begun to fall, but everything was better than to return straight home to his dismal and small house in London's East End.

He sauntered past shop-windows filled with Christmas goods, and large Christmas trees with Christmas lights stood at every corner of the street.

'Bah humbug', mumbled Snape. 'If it was left up to me, Christmas would be called off. A waste of money, and false emotions.'

For the past six months he had been employed by Olivander, because he had too many enemies at Hogwarts after the victory on Voldemort. Few people knew the real role Severus had played and still regarded him as Dumbledore's murderer. To make matters worse, Harry Potter had been the hero of the hour, after he had found his potions master dying on the floor, with the poison of Voldemort's snake still running through his veins. Potter had saved his life with an ingenious spell and not only was he now known as The Boy Who Lived, but also as the boy who saved his worst enemy's life. Snape clenched his fists at the idea. He was not a pompous ass, he really did not demand eternal fame, but the idea that he had been saved by _Potter_ was more than he could bear.

Olivander was a wise man. If anyone understood that Snape alone, at his own peril, had had the knowledge and the courage to hoodwink Voldemort, it had been Olivander. He never talked about the matter and if the Daily Prophet published a damaging story about Snape's role again, he literally used it to light the fire.

'Wonderful, this warmth', he would then say and smile without saying another word about it.

When Snape reached his dreary street with its drab terraced houses, the pavement looked white from the snow. He had to take care not to lose his footing, but that almost happened to him anyway when children, yelling and cheering elatedly, ran around him, their cheeks red from the cold and holding colourful Christmas drawings and decorations in their hands.

'Watch it, you louts!' Snape snarled, falling against his own front door, which brought his face on the same level as the knocker on the door. The children's voices had died away and yet he swore he could hear a voice.

'Severus!'

He looked around. The street was empty.

'Severus!'

Snape froze: he saw that the lion's head of the knocker on his door had turned into a face. 'Severus, don't look so disagreeable. It's almost Christmas!'

He knew that face, it was Dumbledore's. Snape hesitated for a moment, turned the key in the lock and slammed the door close with a bang.

'Humbug', he said. 'All nonsense.'

With a sigh he looked around him in his gloomy, cold house. He blew into his hands before he lit the fire in the hearth with his wand. Then he looked at his face in the mirror above the hearth. His hair had turned grey. Just at his temples, but nevertheless. His face had more lines. But it did not matter anyway, because he had never been handsome. He looked at the crackling flames in the hearth and relaxed when he felt their warmth. He poured himself a glass of wine, one of life's few pleasures as a bachelor. Groaning with fatigue, he sprawled in his armchair and stared into the fire.

'Severus! Severus Snape!'

For a moment he thought he saw Albus' face again, in the fire. Sleepily, he looked at the label on the bottle. Was this stuff off?

'Yes, it's me, Severus. It's Albus. Don't you trust your senses anymore?'

Snape sprang to his feet. It _was _Albus' face in the fire.

'I don't trust my senses that easily', he said gruffly. 'They are influenced by the slightest things. Like old wine, for example. You could just as well be the result of a swig of plonk, Albus.'

The face in the flames laughed.

'Still the same, I notice, Severus. You look sad, my boy. I'm worried.'

'Don't be. You don't have to worry about me. I like it at Olivander's, no one to bother me. And right now I'm missing out on those dreadful Christmas celebrations at Hogwarts. What more could I wish for?'

Albus grinned, causing sparks to start flying around. 'Yes, you never liked social get-togethers. But you deserve better than being an outcast. You're an exceptionally courageous man.'

'I've stopped entertaining those kinds of thoughts. They only make you unhappy and no one gains anything from them.'

'Yes, in your own way you're a very modest man, Severus. But I feel conscience-stricken that I lumbered you with that awful order before and that people are giving you the cold shoulder now. I want you to have a little justice at Christmas.'

'Nice try, Albus. But how will you manage that? The Daily Prophet thinks otherwise and only writes about what people like to hear.'

'But, people also like to hear the truth, despite everything. That's why I need your cooperation.'

'Again?' Snape sneered and did his best to look as cynical as possible.

'Oh, but this'll be to your advantage, I promise. You'll be visited by three people, tonight. The first one will be at your door in about a quarter of an hour, the others will visit you at more unpredictable times.'

'Three? Tonight? I'm dog-tired, Albus! Can't all three of them come at the same time, just so we can get it over with?'

Just at that moment, the doorbell rang.

'You're first promise is wrong already', Snape said peevishly. 'You told me it wouldn't be for another quarter of an hour.' But he looked into a peaceful fire and saw that Albus had disappeared.

Slowly, he got up from his chair and trudged to the front door. He saw a slim form through the leaded glass. The form seemed vaguely familiar to him. Resigned, he opened the door.

'Potter…'

This was the last person he would have expected a visit from. He had expected ghosts, witches, Merlin himself and even his Aunt Ursula, but not his old tormentor. Why did it always have to be _Potter_!

'I'm sorry', began Harry. 'I know I may have come at an inconvenient time…'

'Indeed', Snape said. 'You always come at an inconvenient time, Potter. _Always_. Well, maybe not that one time. Luckily, you came just in time, then.'

'Yes, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. And a lot more things. Can I come in, please? It shouldn't take long.'

Snape hesitated. How dared this whippersnapper visit him at his home! Then the thought entered his mind that in his great wisdom, Albus would have his reasons for it. Silently, he held the door open and indicated to Harry he could enter.

Briefly, Harry looked around the slovenly room, full of books and papers. A single, faded painting on the wall, no family photos or knickknacks.

'You haven't put up your Christmas decorations yet', Harry said, to break the silence.

'There won't be any Christmas decorations either!' Snape said. 'All humbug, Christmas. It's just a way to part people from their money.'

'Oh well…' Harry went on. 'I won't stand much of a chance with my invitation, then.'

'Invitation?' Snape said, bewildered. He hated it that Potter always came up with something unexpected, something which made it necessary for him to become defensive or to explain why Potter was barking up the wrong tree again.

'Yes, my wife and I'd like to invite you for Christmas Day. To have a bite to eat and to keep us company, of course.

Snape smirked. 'Well, well, well. Christmas Day. Keep you company. And do you think it'd make the least bit of difference?'

Harry became insecure and stammered a little when he asked: 'What do you mean, Professor?'

'Let's not beat around the bush, Potter. You don't like me, I don't like you. It's always been like that and it'll remain like that forever. Given that you're also my great lifesaver, you must be delighted. It'll forever give you the satisfaction that I still owe you something. Such as that Christmas party of yours. I'll sit there by the Christmas tree, completely humiliated and humbled, calling out what a good time I'm having. Because I can't refuse the Great Lifesaver anything, of course. Well, I've got a surprise in store for you, that's exactly what I'm going to do: refuse. I _will not_ be coming to your Christmas party. Thank your wife from me, I've got nothing against her, but I'm not going to let myself be mollycoddled like an old man who should be protected against himself, because he'll hang himself out of misery and loneliness on Christmas Eve, otherwise.'

For a while, Harry stood there listening with his mouth hanging open, then crossed his arms.

'Are you finished?'

Snape sat down and poured himself another glass of wine.

'Certainly', he said, pleased with his accurate outburst.

'The only thing left for me to say is that I'm sincerely sorry you won't come…' Harry began. 'Why I'm asking you to come, is because I admire you… All us do, actually, my wife and my friends… because we know how much you've done for the war and how courageous you've been. That's why I'm asking you to come and celebrate Christmas at my place and that's why we also… Oh well. Look for yourself', he concluded. His hand shaking, he pressed a birth announcement card in Snape's hands. Then he walked away, without waiting for Snape's reaction to the card.

Snape was left behind, somewhat baffled. He heard Harry close the front door, while he sat there, one hand still holding the card, the other a glass of wine. Quickly, he took a sip and then opened the envelope. He always forgot that Harry was a grown man now, no longer a student. He was married to Ginny Weasley and it appeared she had recently given birth. Another little Potter in the world. Sooner or later, he or she would turn up at Hogwarts, but he would no longer be around to witness it, luckily. His cynical smile vanished when he reads the newborn's name: Albus Severus Potter.

He got up and looked in the mirror. _His _first name… a _Potter_… how dared he… what was he thinking of… the arrogance! Then, he burst into tears.

Of course, he _was _lonely, he _wanted _to hang himself out of misery. That was the truth. And he missed Lily. Still. More than ever on nights like these.

He awoke with a start when the clock on the mantelpiece struck two. He was sitting in his armchair and must have fallen asleep. The fire was nearly out, the remains of it still smouldering a little.

What was it Albus had said again? The other two visitors came at unpredictable times. Typically Albus. Never any clarity.

'Severus, yeh grouch! Fer once in yer life, join in!'

Snape got up from his chair. He heard a booming voice coming from the kitchen. There was a strange sort of light, as if his energy saving lamp suddenly shone with a force of 500 Volts.

He walked towards the kitchen and saw Hagrid sitting there. Dressed like Santa Claus. He had filled the kitchen with appetising refreshments and he laughed merrily, as he slapped Snape's shoulder.

'Try an' look a bit more cheerful, man! The Hogwarts' chefs 'aven't made an effort for nothin' to make it inter somethin' wonderful.'

'Hogwarts' chefs? For me? Why?'

'Yeh don't seriously think that anybody believes those malicious rumours in the newspapers, Severus! Most people know what 'as 'appened. Everyone 'oped yeh would join us fer the Christmas celebrations terday. We wan'ed to 'onour yeh.'

'Honour…' Snape repeated flatly. What was he to do with all this grub? He was not even slightly hungry.

'Yes, 'onour. Yeh're getting' the Great Merlin Award fer Courage an' Persistence. Tha' 'as become known terday.'

Now Snape looked really surprised. This really was a great honour, to be compared with the Nobel Peace Prize in the Muggle world. How often had he not secretly dreamed of this, when he was a small boy. Even as a grown-up, but he was quickly cured of that, when he had found out how small-minded and corrupt the world was.

'Since yeh di'n't turn up this afternoon, I 'ave the 'onour to presen' it ter yeh, Severus.' Hagrid opened a small box with in it, resting on blue velvet, a sparkling silver plaque with a sapphire. Carefully, Snape felt the inscription with his finger, to ascertain that this award was really meant for him: '_Severus Snape, for great courage and dedication in the battle against Evil'_, it said along the edge. Beneath the sapphire shone a small hologram of his likeness.

'My hair's still black in that picture…' Snape said softly, doing his utmost not to let too much emotion sound in his voice.

'Yeh earn'd it, Severus', Hagrid kindly said, and hung the medal round his neck.

'I do regret not coming to Hogwarts now, today,' Snape admitted.

'Doesn't matter, we unnerstan' completely. 'ave a very merry Christmas, Severus. Don't stay 'ere. Go out! Do you 'ave anyone to celebrate with termorro'?'

Snape thought he might have been a bit rash in showing Potter the door. Actually, it had not been a very decent thing to do… Bloody stupid, rather. But he did not dare mention it to Hagrid. Therefore, he said 'No… No, I'll manage. Christmas is a day like any other.'

'Well, it's up ter yeh. Termorro', I'm going to my sister's, in the Black Forest. We'll 'ave lovely dragon's eggs on toas'!'

Snape walked Hagrid to the front door, thanked him again for the medal and was alone once more. He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his medal. What a pity his mother was no longer alive to witness this. His eyes fell on Harry's son's birth announcement card again. He had not been able to please his mother by giving her a grandson. After Lily he had never really been in love again. He wondered if little Albus Severus would also have inherited Lily's green eyes, just like Harry. Now he was really sorry he had refused Harry's invitation so rudely and, briefly, he bit his lip.

Immediately, he pricked up his ears. He heard a slight ringing sound, something in the street. He opened the door and looked at the pristine, white street: again, it was snowing lightly. The sound he heard seemed like the ringing of little bells. It came from yonder…

Heedless of the cold, he walked outside without his coat on. Beneath a streetlamp stood a figure, it was a woman. She was beautiful and light, wore a silver dress with pearls that made a sound like little bells. When he came closer, he saw her green eyes. It was Lily.

'Lily…' Snape stammered. 'My darling… So very often I've tried to summon you, like Albus… But it never worked.' He reached out his hand to her, to touch her, but stopped halfway, his hand trembling as if he was frightened his touch would break the spell.

'You may touch me if you want to, Severus', Lily said, with a strangely ethereal voice, like it came from far away. 'But I can't feel you. I came from elsewhere to ask you to go to Harry's tomorrow. Today, in fact. Look, it's getting light again.' Her thin hand was pointing towards the dawn that became visible above the grey rooftops.

'Lily…' Snape embraced his former lover and kissed her on her forehead. She smiled.

'Will you go to Harry's, Severus?'

He nodded. 'Yes, I think I should go.'

'He admires you a great deal, did you know that?'

"No, I didn't. I thought he hated me.'

'You've been very hard on him sometimes, Severus. No wonder he hated you sometimes. And yet, he admired you and he knows how brave you've been.'

'Yes, he told me. But I didn't believe him. Not at that moment.'

'Go to him, Severus, and make up for the past. I'll be happy then. I must go now.'

'Do you have to go already, my sweet Lily… can't you stay a little longer… I'm missing you so dreadfully…'

'I'll fade when dawn breaks, Severus. I'm sorry.'

Snape saw Lily's form become ever more transparent, her voice barely audible. Then the streetlamp went out, because it became too light and Snape was left holding just thin air. Sobbing, he held onto the streetlamp and in his frustration banged his forehead against the clammy cast iron. 'Lily, Lily…' he said several times. With a start, he realised he was in the middle of the street and pulled himself together. Quickly, he dried his tears and walked home. He had to get ready to go to Harry's. He did not want to look like a sad old man, when he appeared at the Christmas party.

Just before he reached his front door, he saw a boy.

'You there, boy!'

The boy cringed when he heard Snape's voice, because he had been chased away by him recently, when he came to his door to sing Christmas carols.

'No, no, don't be afraid. I'm sorry I chased you away, the day before yesterday. I'm an old wretch, I know. Don't take it to heart. But tell me quickly: do you know if that shop with the plush animals is still open today?'

'You mean that shop with the enormous polar bear in the shop window, the one that's almost as big as me and wears a Christmas hat?'

'Yes indeed, that's the one I mean! If you bring me that within half an hour, I'll give you ten pounds. Here you have the money to buy it!'

'Thank you, sir!' the boy said, surprised. 'But, do you trust me?'

'Yes, I trust you. Because you look like a nice, well-behaved boy to me', Snape said. Yet, at that moment he still had his doubts whether it was a good idea to send the boy on an errand with such a lot of money, but he quickly suppressed that thought.

Snape was in an excellent mood now, and quickly got ready for his visit to Harry's. He even washed his hair, the second time that year.

When the boy delivered the Christmas polar bear, he attached a card to it. '_To Albus Severus'. _

Then he took a cab.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere was pleasantly chaotic at the Potter residence. Hermione was laying the table festively, because Ginny was still too weak. She was sitting on the couch with little Albus Severus in her arms. Fleur was standing on a small stepladder, hanging Christmas decorations. A lot of little Weasleys were crawling around, and had to be kept an eye on. They were trying to get their hands on all the snacks and Ron had to intervene when his son tried to push a bauble up Fleur's daughter's nose. Harry was in the kitchen, wearing an apron, watching if the turkey was done yet.

'Will Snape come, do you think?' Hermione asked Ginny.

'No, of course not', Ginny said with a smile. 'I already predicted this to Harry. That old grouch would rather bite off his tongue, than come and sing Christmas carols with us.'

'I'd almost feel sorry for him. They've given him this award and still he's spending Christmas entirely on his own.'

'Oh, of course not, Snape doesn't like to be fussed over. He'll manage.'

'It makes you wonder why he turned out like he did. But then, he's so many dark secrets, that I don't think anyone like that will be able to lead a normal life anymore.'

Just then, the bell rang. Harry wiped his hands on his apron and walked to the front door,  
absent-mindedly. He opened it and stood there looking glazed at his Potions master for a few seconds, like it didn't sink in.

'Hello, Harry. You probably didn't expect me anymore. I erm… was a bit rash maybe, yesterday. I'm sorry about that.'

He looked down somewhat timidly, when Harry kept staring at him silently.

'Nice apron, Harry', he said then.

'Oh! Yes. I was busy cooking the turkey, Professor', Harry laughed apologetically. 'Well, this is a surprise, come in.'

He looked askance at the enormous plush monster Snape was hiding behind his back.

'And erm, you can call me Severus, of course', Snape told him softly, when Harry took his coat.

All conversation stopped abruptly, when Harry and Snape entered the living room.

'Look everyone, Prof… Severus is here! I've invited him to come and celebrate Christmas with us and I'm very happy he accepted.'

Ron looked a bit suspicious. He had had the most trouble accepting that Snape had been on the good side all along. But it was not long before he shook Snape's hand.

'Congratulations on your award, you earned it', he said.

'Yes, congratulations!' the others also called and everybody wanted to shake Snape's hand. Finally, Ginny made a move to get up, little Albus Severus on her arm, but Snape begged her to stay seated. He sat down on his haunches and showed little Severus the bear.

'See, this is for you. Because I feel a little bit like your godfather', he said. 'And that makes me feel even happier than the award.'

Then he stood up and addressed Harry. 'I want to apologise to you, Harry. I haven't always been very nice to you.'

'Well,' Harry said good-naturedly. 'My father was also a bit of a tormentor, when you and he were young. I can understand your prejudice.'

'That was only partly to blame for it,' Snape said. 'I was in love once… Can you imagine me being in love?' he asked, looking at Ginny.

'Yes,' she said pensively. 'Yes, of course I can imagine that.'

Snape turned to Harry again. 'Her name was Lily', he said softly, then. 'Yes, Harry, I loved your mother. But we were not meant for each other. Anyway, I messed things up for myself. I chose black magic and other theatricals and only learned that, when it was too late, it wouldn't make me happy.'

'My mother…?' Harry stuttered. Everyone present in the room was stunned into speechlessness.

'Yes, every time I met you, I saw your mother's shadow in your eyes.' He quickly touched Harry's face, almost tenderly. Then he clapped his hands.

'There! Enough about the past. Now I want to taste that delicious punch that's been winking at me from the corner of the room!'

Relieved, everybody took a deep breath and they all started to chatter at the same time. Glasses appeared and soon everyone was a little inebriated.

Jokes (lots of Voldemort jokes) and stories were told, and a lot of food was consumed.

After dinner Hermione and Fleur sang a song, while Ron accompanied them on the piano. And while Severus was snoozing on the couch, little baby Potter on his lap, he was thinking of Lily again, how she had appeared to him in the street. But this time, he did not feel sad, because it was only now he felt that she had not left; her touch lingered on beneath his skin, her voice still sounded inside his head and the two small, green eyes that sometimes looked at him in surprise, spoke of a love that cannot be touched by death.


End file.
